


The Full Extent of the Law

by Sacramental_Wine



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Dom/sub, Fingerfucking, Light Bondage, M/M, Roleplay, Sticky Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-03
Updated: 2014-03-03
Packaged: 2018-01-14 10:54:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1263631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sacramental_Wine/pseuds/Sacramental_Wine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"“It appears to me that in my absence, some of the discipline has been lacking around here. Particularly yours,” Ultra Magnus said softly, voice a low rumble, barely masking the interested rev of his own engine. Prowl stood completely at attention, optics forward as Ultra Magnus inspected his posture, the slide of his optics like a physical caress that sent interested shakes down Prowl’s spinal struts."</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Full Extent of the Law

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this relatively quickly and blame Burst wholeheartedly for this.

“Officer, we need to speak about your conduct.”

It was a mixture of the words and the tone with which they were said that made Prowl’s doorwings shudder softly. He followed the much larger mech briskly, wings held high and arms clasped behind his back to hide the tremors of excitement at that wonderful tone. The Ex-Duly Appointed Enforcer of the Tyrest Accord allowed Prowl into the office first, closing and locking the door behind him before standing directly behind the smaller mech.

“It appears to me that in my absence, some of the discipline has been lacking around here. Particularly yours,” Ultra Magnus said softly, voice a low rumble, barely masking the interested rev of his own engine. Prowl stood completely at attention, optics forward as Ultra Magnus inspected his posture, the slide of his optics like a physical caress that sent interested shakes down Prowl’s spinal struts. “It appears to me that the chain of command has fallen apart. I will have to take disciplinary measures.”

A large servo fell on the small of Prowl’s back and the Praxian gave a full body shudder. “Of course, sir,” he responded, voice steady despite the tremors of excitement filling him already. He could feel his spike twitching in interest behind its cover and his valve cycle down on nothing in anticipation. Magnus hadn’t even really touched him yet. He felt Magnus trail his servo up, digits circling his wrist with a thoughtful hum.

“Thumbs up, palms flat, do not move unless instructed, officer.”

Prowl was quick to comply and Magnus is equally quick to place the cuffs on him, pressing a too large servo between his doorwings to bend him forward, bumper touching the desk and legs spreading to keep his balance.  “Excellent, it seems someone still knows the value of following orders,” Magnus’ engine growled in approval and Prowl crushed the urge to let his wings flutter at the praise. He dipped his helm down as Magnus’s servos mapped out his back and hips, moving slowly over the curves of his black and white plating and making his core temperature start to rise.

“Prowl,” Magnus hummed, “you need to be an example for others. I’m afraid you haven’t been doing your duty and thus, I will need to remind you of how important your job is. Can you agree to this?”

Prowl swallowed around the aroused lump in his throat and nodded, almost mewling as Magnus pushes him up onto the desk, his bumper dipping over the lip of the table and his waist pressed flush to the metal beneath him. His pedes turned inward, aft in the air and legs straining to keep balance in this position.

And then a mouth was trailing down the inner lining of his doorwings, mouthing at the seams and Prowl needs to bite his lips to keep from moaning at the touch. Ultra Magnus hadn’t asked for his moans yet and thus he would not give them without permission. The point of the exercise is obedience, afterall, and acting without prompting would be disobedient. Simple as that.

So he needed to bite back his whimpers when Magnus sucked on the tip of a wing, one of his servos tracing geometric patterns that mapped the circuitry beneath the metal on the opposite wing. Each touch like exposed wires brushing together, creating circuits for too short a time to really count. It was enough to make Prowl push minutely into the touch, engine revving and plating starting to feel far too hot to be comfortable.

“You’re doing well,” Magnus praised, lips trailing down the arch of Prowl’s spinal struts, between his doorwings and pausing to nip a seam. That got a small jolt out of Prowl and Magnus hummed, almost pleased. He prompted Prowl to spread his legs a little wider, giving his servos room to trail over meticulously clean thigh plating, to feel the most minute of twitches and eager motions as he explored. Yes, Prowl was always so very good at taking orders.

“Open up.”

And Prowl did, interface panel sliding aside revealing an already slick valve, not releasing his spike for fear it would jam against the side of the desk. Magnus could appreciate the logic behind the decision, feeling his own spike surge behind its cover. He leaned over Prowl’s frame, kissing the back of his neck and nibbling the cables there while running one digit around the opening of his valve. He took in Prowl’s expression, the thoroughly bitten lips and the optics dimmed with lust and need.

“You have permission to speak, officer,” Magnus murmured and suddenly a soft cacophony of whimpers and gasping little moans while the Praxian fought to hold still. Good, still maintaining the order from earlier, Prowl could be trusted to follow his orders to the letter and it sent a heady, wonderful wash of arousal through Ultra Magnus.

Prowl felt his thighs shake as a thick digit slowly buried itself in his valve, pressing against several nodes that hadn’t been tripped in what felt like forever. He panted through his mouth, cooling fans whining at the futile task of cooling his frame. He appreciated the fact that Magnus understood him, knew what he needed, knew he needed to be given orders and to feel as though he was carrying them out because Magnus needed that too, to be in the hands of someone else’s logical, well ordered command. It made his valve clench on the invading digit, lubricant slick down his thighs because he could feel the lust in Magnus’ field, the well planned motions and it truly is a test of his will to not move under such a wonderful feeling.

“M-Magnus,” he moaned, spreading his legs a little wider to allow a second digit inside, feeling them knock on his ceiling node and stretch those calipers wide. His vision went white for a moment, a startled little cry jumping from his vocalizer as he quaked under the larger mech, suddenly craving more, to really give himself over to the other’s whim. “Please…”

“Please what, Prowl? Clarity is important for the chain of command.” Magnus murmured into his audio, calm as ever despite the arousal in his field and the heat pouring off his frame. He kept his own panelling closed and would until Prowl told him exactly what he needed. He added a third digit and twisted, pressing against deeply buried nodes in the soft, drenched mesh.

But he could feel the Praxian fighting not to give a command, trying to find the words to make a request of his superior officer and it made it all the more gratifying when Prowl spoke again. “I want you to spike me, sir,” he said, voice shaking, valve twitching around Magnus’ deeply buried digits and trying to suck them in deeper.

Prowl whined as the thick digits were pulled away, pressed to his mouth instead as the sound of Magnus’ panel opening filled the room. He latched onto those soaked digits, moaning around them softly as Magnus pushed into him, spreading his legs ever wider just by the width of his hips and it had been so, so long since Prowl had been this full, optics sliding shut helplessly with the taste of himself on his glossa and that spike just on the edge of too large nudging hard against his ceiling node.

Magnus waited until a particular whimper rose from Prowl’s vocalizer, louder than his moans or the scream of their cooling fans and he began to thrust into that tight, wet heat, biting back his own groans in order to focus on the perfect arch of those doorwings, trembling in the smallest way with each thrust, the perfectly still clench of Prowl’s servos in the cuffs. The only part of Prowl allowed to move being his lips, sliding over Magnus’ lubricant slicked servo to clean them with as much focus as the Praxian gave anything. And it was heady and perfect, watching Prowl follow every order perfectly, knowing the importance of order and obedience and that was worth a reward.

So he pressed his lips to Prowl’s doorwing again, nipping the edges as he thrust in deep, pressing hard to that ceiling node and groaning as Prowl cried out, clenching down around him and struggling not to move. Struggling not to press into every thrust in the interest of chasing that ever elusive overload. And Magnus wanted to give it to him, give him everything for being the one mech who understood.

“Overload for me, officer.”

And Prowl, ever the consummate professional, did. Spectacularly. He tossed his helm back with a wordless scream as his valve cycled down hard, blue arcs of electricity arcing over his frame as he was trapped in that overload for what felt like ages. His wings fluttered and his thighs shook and he felt lubricant pour down his thighs as he rocked back onto that thick, amazing spike.

But Magnus hadn’t overloaded.

“You moved.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” Prowl panted, frame limp against the desk as Magnus undid the cuffs. He flipped over, groaning and giving a soft, almost smile at the sight of his larger lover still pressurized and his spike dripping with Prowl’s lubricant. He watched Magnus sit down heavily, optics sweeping over the blue chassis and he felt his spark clench softly. He’d missed Ultra Magnus. Very much. And he would like to show him. So, Prowl slid to his knees in front of Magnus and looked up at him.

“I expect you will punish me to the full extent of the law for my lack of discipline.” 


End file.
